Dying Is A Wild Night And A

The Things Of Which We Want The Proof Are Those We Know The Best.

To Lose Ones Faith-surpass The Loss Of An Estate- Because Estates Can Be Replenished- Faith Cannot-.

Lest I Should Be Old-fashioned, I'll Put A Trinket On.

Morning Without You Is A Dwindled Dawn.

This Is The Hour Of Lead- Remembered, If Outlived, As Freezing Persons, Recollect The Snow- First-chill-then Stupor- Then The Letting Go---